


Sounds of Winter

by allfireburns



Category: Wicked - Maguire
Genre: Community: femslash_today, F/F, Femslash, POV Third Person, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-26
Updated: 2009-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 06:58:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfireburns/pseuds/allfireburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glinda's not exactly used to snow like this - and of course, Elphaba doesn't seem to notice at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sounds of Winter

The snow took Glinda aback at first. It doesn't snow like this in Gillikin, and never did at Shiz. But up here in the mountains, winter hit hard, raging against the ancient walls of Kiamo Ko. Glinda huddled against Elphaba's side the night the storm hit, a little irrationally frightened that it would knock down the entire castle, and they'd be covered over by rubble and snow. Elphaba slept right through it.

And now, the very next morning, it was perfect calm outside, and everything painted white. The sky, the land, the castle, snowflake still drifting down slowly from the sky... Glinda stood by the window, staring out at the snow. She'd never seen snow like this before. It was almost worth that horrid broom ride here, all the excuses she had to make in order to _get_ here... It was _pretty_. Somehow, she'd never expected Elphaba to live in a place that was pretty.

She heard her footsteps on the floor behind her, those black boots she always wore clomping on the cold stone floor. Glinda turned, smiling brightly. She thought about the picture she must make, standing in front of the open window, the snow outside, and her in a pale blue dress (as much as Elphaba had complained about bringing along her wardrobe, she would _have_ to appreciate the image...).

Unfortunately, Elphaba didn't seem to notice that at all. "Close that window. You're going to get snow inside."

Glinda sighed and closed the window. Of course Elphaba didn't have any appreciation of aesthetics. It probably had to do with being raised in Quadling Country. "I was just looking. It's pretty."

"And now there'll be a puddle on the floor."

Glinda looked to the floor, to the snowflakes that had fallen there, and on the window sill. They weren't even melting yet, it was so cold inside. "So have that little boy I saw hanging around clean it up. That's what servants are for."

Elphaba didn't answer, her lips pursed. Glinda wondered if she'd said something wrong, but then, she never could tell with Elphaba. She stepped forward, away from the window, the cold of the floor palpable even through the thin slippers she wore - but then, they were silk, and she didn't even _own_ anything warmer. Her own house in Gillikin was much better heated.

Elphaba still didn't speak as she stepped forward, staying carefully far enough from the window that she couldn't possibly touch any of the snow on windowsill or floor. Her thin, bony arms went around Glinda's shoulders, strangely comforting. Glinda remembered the flight here, on Elphaba's broom, the way she trembled in the wind, and at the height, until Elphaba at last snapped at her to hide her eyes if she had to, and she spent the rest of the flight with her face pressed to Elphaba's shoulder. It was strange, how comforting Elphaba could be, despite all her jagged edges, despite everything.

"I don't see why you need to wear those clothes here," Elphaba said at last. "No one's going to see you."

"You are," Glinda said, though she knew Elphaba would think it didn't matter. And maybe it didn't, not really, but as long as Elphaba was going to see her... Well, she could hardly go around in dark rags like Elphaba herself did. It suited _her_.

At the moment, though, she supposed it truly _didn't_ matter, as Elphaba removed the dress with business-like precision, and the delicate blue thing fell to the floor, forgotten. Glinda shivered a moment in the cold before Elphaba pulled her to the bed, slender fingers wrapped around her wrist. Glinda found herself fascinated by the contrast, green on pale cream.

Those same spidery hands traced down over Glinda's body, always precise, almost scientific, but she touched parts Chuffrey never even _thought_ of, and after a while all the science went out of it. Green on white, Elphaba's hands cold against her skin but not unpleasantly so, bony long fingers pressing into her, curling and pressing in all the right spots while that fierce, green face hovered right above Glinda's, all the harshness of her features momentarily softened...

She never let Glinda touch her, hardly ever let her see her unclothed. It was always just like this, Elphaba holding her, cradling her, while her long, deft fingers did things that made Glinda whimper and gasp...

Glinda discovered something else about snow, that she'd never imagined. It seemed to dampen sound, make the whole world quiet, so her own gasps and whines seemed that much louder, seemed to fill the world. The only other sounds were Elphaba's breathing, sharp and quick, and her heartbeat in her ears.


End file.
